GHOSTBUSTERS: The Return Page 24

CHAPTER 17

  It was only about one mile from the south end of the park to the Museum of Natural History and the Hayden Planetarium. With the front seat of the Ectomobile full of semi-hardened cement, it looked as though the Ghostbusters were going to have to get there on foot. Fortunately, after reining in the serpent trio, it took Venkman less than a minute to coax help out of one of the police officers stationed on crowd control.

  Now, they were speeding through the streets of the Upper West Side in a police car with lights flashing and sirens blaring. Ray sat up front with the driver, and the others crowded together in the rear. Even as he drove, the officer was already on the radio, requesting immediate support from a SWAT team, and a cordon around the museum.

  "Better ask for a couple of fire trucks and arnbulances too, just in case," said Ray.

  "Yeah, okay. Good idea," he decided. He made the call.

  Egon watched the scene with wonder. The Ghostbusters' relationship with the police had always been cordial at best. The friendly interactions and level of accommodation they'd experienced over the past few days were a quantum leap forward from what they were used to. He wondered if the relationship would hold up at some point in the future. when they inevitably wound up arrested again.

  Winston nudged Venkman. "Maybe we should call the museum, so they can start clearing out the civilians."

  With a nod, Venkman reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. As he switched on the power, the phone was already ringing. He winced.

  "Your adoring public, I presume?" said Egon.

  "Probably Gary and the party boys again," said Venkman. "They've been calling nonstop to find out what's going on."

  "So you turned off the power?" said Winston.

  "Wouldn't you?"

  Egon looked down at the cell phone to read the telephone number that flashed onto its display. "That's not the party. That's our office."

  Before Venkman could react, he snatched the phone from his hand and answered it. "Hello? Janine? Why are you calling on Peter's line?... Right. We had a little difficulty with some cement... No, I'll explain later. What's up?... Yes... " The conversation continued along those lines for another minute or so, until Egon thanked her, broke the connection, and handed the phone back to Venkman.

  "Can I do anything else for you?" said Venkman, a little miffed.

  Egon didn't seem to notice. "That was Janine," he said, loud enough for Ray to hear him in the front seat. "She was going through seventeenth century genealogical records, trying to identify the exorcist who defeated Xanthador in 1627. Guess whom she found?"

  "Pocahontas?" said Venkman.

  "Jonathan Goodraven," said Egon.

  "Are you serious?" asked Ray.

  "Janine says the name seems to match the blurry entry in the diary."

  "It can't be the same guy," said Winston.

  "Although it would explain his cutting edge fashion sense," said Venkman.

  "It's more likely that the present-day Goodraven is the descendant of the historical one," said Egon.

  "You think he can tell us how to beat Xanthador?" said Winston.

  "Easy enough to find out," said Ray. "Look over there."

  The Museum of Natural History loomed up ahead. Police cars were already starting to converge on the site, and barricades were going up. Clouds were gathering and turning dark. The air felt cold and dank. Lightning split the sky. A mass of screaming patrons was pouring out of the museum, toting cameras, maps, and children.

  Standing across the street from the museum, as grimly impassive as ever, was the unmistakable figure of Jonathan Goodraven.

  "Well at least he doesn't appear to have set the museum on fire," said Egon. "Yet."

  The police car pulled up to a nearby curb. With a quick thank-you to their driver, the Ghostbusters poured out of the car and grabbed their equipment from the trunk.

  Strapping on his proton pack as he walked, Venkman approached Goodraven with a broad grin. "Johnny. Johnny. Fancy meeting you here. Hey, didn't I hear you got fired?"

  Goodraven gave no sign of acknowledging that Venkman even existed. He continued to stare at the entrance to the museum - or, perhaps, the crowds fleeing through it. But then, his deep voice intoned, "My mission depends not upon the whims of mortal men."

  As the other Ghostbusters caught up, Ray pushed in front of Venkman to try a more politic approach. "Hi, Mister Goodraven. Ray Stantz. We met the other day."

  Goodraven said nothing. His gaze remained fixed on the museum.

  Ray continued, undaunted. "I gather that one of your ancestors once faced a demon named Xanthador."

  For the first time, Goodraven's face almost registered emotion. He was silent for a moment, then turned his head to look Ray in the eye. "My ancestor."

  "Yes, um...the first Jonathan Goodraven?"

  Goodraven's eyes narrowed. It seemed to only intensify the fire that burned deep within them. Involuntarily, Ray started to fidget.

  "Indeed," said Goodraven, "in eons past, my honored progenitor did do battle with the netherspawn Xanthador. A fearsome creature it was, of great and terrible aspect. Truly, it was unmatched by any other that has walked this mortal plane."

  "Oh, dandy," Venkman muttered to Winston. "Well, that sure inspires confidence. I can't wait to hear his halftime speech."

  "But your ancestor did defeat him, right?" Ray asked.

  "The price of victory was dear, yet, 'tis true. When the final word was writ, 'twas Goodraven who stood alone upon the field of battle. The ancient power of Xanthador was banished once more from the world of men."

  "You wouldn't happen to know how he did it, would yout?" asked Winston.

  "I am in possession of some small charms and traditions, yes."

  Egon looked skeptical. "They don't involve flamethrowers, do they?"

  Again, Ray stepped in. "You see," he told Goodraven, "The thing is, we're pretty sure that Xanthador is after something in that building over there. And there's a good chance he's inside right now."

  Goodraven closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. "Aye, Xanthador is near. I sense the stygian scent of the Lord of Fear e'en here."

  "Well, I was thinking: Considering your knowledge and experience," said Ray, "how would you like to work with us on this one?"

  In unison, Egon and Venkman exclaimed, "What?!"

  "You presume much," said Goodraven, with a sneer. "I require no assistance."

  "No, I get it. I see what Ray's getting at," said Winston. As he spoke, he looked back and forth between his teammates and Goodraven, trying to convince both sides at the same time. "Listen, judging from everything we've seen so far, Xanthador's not going to give this up without a fight, right? And it's a safe bet that, whatever's he's got going on, he's not alone in there. We can handle the assorted weirdies, but you're the only one who knows how to fight the big guy himself. We can make sure you get up close and personal with Xanthador. Then you can finish him off."

  Goodraven mulled it over briefly. "Thy words hold some measure of merit. You propose to deliver me to the seat of Xanthador's power?" He nodded slowly. "Very well. Let us join forces for the present."

  Grudgingly. Egon said, "I suppose it makes sense."

  "Guess that settles it," said Venkman. He tried to throw an arm around Goodraven's shoulders, but found that he couldn't reach all the way around them. Instead, he settled for clapping Goodraven on the back. "Welcome to the team, Johnny. Let's go see a man about a ghost."

  Most of the fleeing crowd had subsided by the time the Ghostbusters and Goodraven climbed the steps that led toward the main entrance to the museum. If any living people remained inside, there probably weren't many of them - a fair number of the museum's security guards had joined the mass exodus.

  "Guess we didn't have to bother calling to tell them to evacuate," said Winston.

  "There are forces at work here that span millennia, and terrors untold in the history of man," said Goodraven.

  "That would explain it, then," said W
inston.

  Egon kept his PKE meter trained on the museum. "I can't vouch for how old they are, but there are 'forces' in there, all right. If these readings climbed any higher, they'd pass out from lack of oxygen."

  As the group neared the entrance, Venkman took the various pamphlets out of his pocket and found a floor map to the museum. He paused for a moment on the steps and studied it. "The planetarium's pretty big. It spans a couple of floors," he said. "But according to this, the entrance will be to our right and down one floor once we get inside the museum."

  Ray pulled down a pair of high-tech goggles from the top of his head, and adjusted them to cover his eyes. Ordinarily, he preferred not to wear them - they restricted his peripheral vision, and besides, they made his eyes sweat. But the goggles were useful for particularly tough jobs. Not only did they protect his eyes, but the scopes that protruded from the front of the rig were handy in detecting spectres whose forms lay outside the visible spectrum. If the opposition waiting inside the museum was as formidable as they expected, he and the other Ghostbusters were going to need every advantage they could get.

  "Hey, Ghostbusters!" said a gruff voice behind them.

  They turned to see a grizzled SWAT commander in a cap and flak jacket, jogging up the steps behind them. He wasn't even winded by the time he reached them.

  "Awright," he barked, "I've got my men fanning out around the complex now to cover the exits. Word is, we're letting you go in as the first wave. We'll hold our position for twenty minutes. Then my guys go in."

  "With all due respect, we're highly trained scientists specializing in paranormal activity," said Egon. "If we are unable to bring the situation under control, then I fail to see how your - "

  Ray broke in before Egon could get them further in trouble. "Twenty minutes should be plenty, sir. Thanks."

  The commander gave a grunt that sounded like he was unconvinced. But he walked back down the stairs.

  "So, anybody got a plan?" asked Ray.

  "Blast anything that moves, get Johnny into the planetarium, kick Xanthador's butt," said Venkman.

  "Works for me."

  They entered the building together, then looked around the vacant lobby. Apart from the diorama of dinosaur skeletons, there was no sign of life, past or present.

  Cautiously, the Ghostbusters fanned out to peer down the hallways that extended down either side. Ray ran his hands along one of the walls and pressed his ear against it to learn whether anything might be lurking inside. Goodraven continued to stand near the entrance, almost eerily still, as his narrowed eyes studied their surroundings.

  At first glance, all seemed quiet.

  "Nothing yet," said Ray.

  "Yeah? So why were all those people screaming?" said Winston.

  "Maybe they saw the admission price," Venkman replied.

  Egon held his PKE meter upright at arm's length as he checked for ambient psychokinetic activity. "It's close," he said. "Very close."

  He started to pass the PKE meter in a slow arc to isolate the source of the activity. But as soon as he began the arc, there was no longer any need for it.

  "FOOLlSH MORTALS!" boomed a voice, echoing off the museum walls and floor. "YOU HAVE DARED TO INTERFERE IN THE AFFAIRS OF THE ALL-POWERFUL SOVEREIGN OF HORROR! KNEEL BEFORE THE FEARSOME VISAGE OF XANTHADOR! KNEEL IN ABJECT TERROR AND SUBMISSION!

  "KNEEL—OR DIE!"

  "Up there!" shouted Ray, pointing at the head of the tallest dinosaur.

  Sure enough, a small, round demon was perched atop the dinosaur's skull. Without missing a beat, all four Ghostbusters let loose with their nutrona wands. The ion streams shot toward the demon with the speed of light. But the demon was already rolling off the skull and catching on with one hand, swinging down to hang beneath the skull. The streams sailed over him, converging to blow a blackened, smoking hole in the ceiling. Before they could fire a second time, the demon held up his free hand.

  "Hey! Whoa! Chill out!" yelled the demon. "I'm only goofin' on you!"

  The Ghostbusters hesitated. They looked at each over, confused.

  "You're...not Xanthador?" said Winston.

  "Nah, not by a long shot." The demon swung itself back up onto his perch on the dinosaur's skull. "The name's Geezil. I just work for the big guy."

  As one, the Ghostbusters took aim with their nutrona wands.

  Geezil covered his eyes. "Whoa! Hold it! I lust wanna tell you something!" When they still hadn't fired after a second, he peeked down with one eye. "Sheesh, and they say demons have hair-trigger tempers. .."

  "What is thy message, demon?" demanded Goodraven, his booming voice reverberating around the room.

  Geezil looked toward him as though he hadn't noticed Goodraven standing near the entrance before. A flash of fear crossed his face. "Oh, it's y - you. I - I didn't see..."

  "Thy message!"

  "Message. Right. Right."

  "Amazing what happens when you can make these things burst into flame with your hands," Ray muttered to Egon.

  "Anyway," said Geezil, "on behalf of Xanthador, supreme master of panic and almighty liege of anxiety, I offer you one opportunity to escape with your miserable lives. Although you are as mere fleas before the power of Xanthador, foolish persistence may render even a flea into a bothersome nuisance. As penalty for your recurring interference, your very lives are forfeit.

  "Yet, all know that Xanthador is ever merciful. Thus, you may save yourselves by becoming this era's first worshippers, for the sight of this realm's defenders in his unholy service shall unnerve the populace and hasten the rise of Xanthador."

  "You're kidding," said Venkman.

  "Pass," said Winston.

  "No," said Egon.

  "I don't think so," said Ray.

  Geezil shrugged. "Your choice. Guess I'll have to kill you now."

  "Oh, yeah?" Ray snapped. "You and what arrny?"

  "This one," said Geezil.

  Instantly, the dinosaurs' eye sockets glowed red with an unearthly light. The huge skeletons turned their heads toward the Ghostbusters. They would have licked their lips if they still had tongues.

  The team couldn't focus on the dinosaurs for long, though. The sound of marching came from one of the hallways, as scores of empty suits of armor advanced toward them. Stuffed lions and tigers - as lithe as thev were when they were alive came from the other. Ancient warriors, mastodons... from every wing of the museum they came. And all of them were out for blood.

  Venkman turned to Ray with a look of disdain. "'You and what army.' You've really gotta stop saying stuff like that... "

  CHAPTER 18

  "Peter!" shouted Egon. "Take Goodraven and get over to the planetarium! We'll handle things here!"

  "We Will?" said Ray.

  "Right!" said Venkman. "Come on, Johnny!" He grabbed Goodraven by the arm and broke into a run - or started to, anyway. At first, Goodraven remained in place, and his considerable mass made Venkman jerk to a sudden stop. But then Goodraven began to move with him, and the unlikely pair was on their way.

  Venkman made a beeline for the nearest stairway. His nutrona wand cut a swath through the advancing hordes. The ion stream ripped through suits of armor and preserved mammals. Each one exploded into bits, sending showers of metal, fur, and ectoplasm into the air. With neither time nor traps to spare, he didn't have the luxury of binding or trapping the spirits that had possessed the exhibits. Each quick burst of the nutrona wand sent an angry and disoriented spectre swirling around in the flying debris, before it returned to the attack.